


In Love and War

by magicalcrapulent



Series: Goldgraves AU [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Death, Crossover, F/M, Fluff, Forced Prostitution, Hunger Games, Hurt/Comfort, Mentor/Protégé, Smut, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 19:58:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10997928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalcrapulent/pseuds/magicalcrapulent
Summary: “No!” somebody screamed. Immediately Percival’s gaze was drawn to another girl pushing her way out of the thong of people. She looked slightly older, probably in her last year of reaping. She had short brown hair and was rather on the meager side, or maybe it was just her height. Beside the other girl she was plain looking, almost unnoticeable.“No! Queenie!” the other girl screamed as the Peacekeepers pulled her away. “No! Take me! I will take her place! Please!”Goldgraves Hunger Games Crossover





	In Love and War

**Author's Note:**

> The promised Hunger Games AU/Crossover. I hope you're all buckled up because we're in for one hell of a ride!

Percival let his eyes scan the crowd gathered in front of the stage with disinterest. He has learned early on as a mentor that he should not have any kind of expectations of how this day would go. It only led to disappointment. He also learned that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. There was only one child getting out of that arena, and he knew from statistics and experience that it wouldn’t be one of his.

That didn’t make it any easier to witness, though.

The trains that would bring them to the Capitol were already waiting in the hangar behind them, and it was a cruel sight to the people here. They were the ones who build these trains, knew what kind of luxuries they housed, how advanced in technology they were. And then, when the reaping was over, when some of them had to see their children leave for their deaths, they would have to go back to a home that lost electricity every other week and where the most advanced thing was their oven.

They were the most populated District, and yet they have only brought forth three victors until now, and two of them were morphling addicts who have won by hiding themselves until everybody else has died. Not really great signs of honor for their District (not that Percival would care about something as trivial as honor. Honor couldn’t get your family fed and it certainly wouldn’t protect you from the brutality of the Peacekeepers).

As Percival watched the crowds of children he could spot many of them slouching where they stood, their eyes glassy and their expressions non-responsive. Morphling addiction was a huge issue in the District, and he always guessed that the Capitol was behind it. They were the most populated District, and thus posed the greatest threat should they ever decide that they have had enough. By spreading morphling amongst the people they were easier to control and less likely to start a riot.

The two victors sitting beside him on the stage moaned as they started to rise out of the drug induced haze. Both of them looked old, way beyond their fiftieth, and they haven’t been with him in the Capitol since his second year as a mentor. Not that they have been any good at it to begin with. Their most helpful advice was to hide until everything was over. Percival hasn’t needed them anyway when he was a tribute.

Slowly but surely the preparations for the reaping came to an end, and when Cassiopeia, District Six’s escort, stepped towards the microphone, the crowd quickly grew silent.

“Welcome to the reaping for the 68th Hunger Games,” Cassiopeia said cheerily. Her voice was scratchy and far too high, and her pink and violet dress and wig were a complete eyesore. Percival couldn’t wait until they got a new escort in a couple of years. Not that he had any hopes that the next one would be any better. He didn’t have _any_ expectations.

They played the mandatory propaganda video, but Cassiopeia was the only one who clapped eagerly. She was the only one to clap in general. “Well then,” she continued unperturbed. “Let’s start with the reaping. Ladies first.” She stumbled over to the bowl holding the names on her ridiculous heels and rummaged around it for an exaggerated amount of time before finally drawing a name and stumbling back to the microphone. “Let’s see,” she muttered as she opened the little slip of paper. “Queenie Goldstein.”

A murmur went through the crowd, and Percival straightened in his seat. It was obvious that a lot of people knew this Queenie Goldstein, and if they even verbalized it like that during the reaping she must be pretty popular, too.

When the girl finally stepped out of the crowd he saw a pretty blonde girl with big eyes that were filled with tears and biting her bottom lip as she came forward. He has seen her around once in a while. She has always been bubbly and happy, and people seem to gravitate towards her naturally. Maybe he could use that to their advan-

“No!” somebody screamed. Immediately Percival’s gaze was drawn to another girl pushing her way out of the thong of people. She looked slightly older, probably in her last year of reaping. She had short brown hair and was rather on the meager side, or maybe it was just her height. Beside the other girl she was plain looking, almost unnoticeable.

She stormed over to Queenie and embraced her, but then Peacekeepers were pulling them apart forcefully. Even the Morphlings beside him were paying attention now, and Cassiopeia looked out of her depths faced with such a situation.

“No! Queenie!” the other girl screamed as the Peacekeepers pulled her away. “No! Take me! I will take her place! Please!”

The entire place froze. Percival could only stare at the girl who pried herself loose from the men holding her and embraced Queenie again. The blonde shook her head forcefully, but the other girl shoved her away from the stage. The Peacekeepers were the first to regain their composure and quickly ushered Queenie away as the brunette came up the stage.

Percival observed her with interest. District 6 has only had one volunteer so far, and that one has been a fucking cannibal, so…

With a beaming smile Cassiopeia walked over to the girl with her microphone. “How exciting! What a turn of events! Tell me my dear, what is your name?”

“Porpentina Goldstein,” the girl said. She looked at the ground, not meeting anybody’s eyes. At first Percival thought that her previous bravado has left her, but then he saw the defiant line of her jaw and her clenched fists and knew that she wasn’t scared. No, she was angry, and sad, and she tried not to cry on national television. She didn’t want to give the Capitol that satisfaction. He respected her for that. He has seen many children cry on this stage before. They thought usually thought that it didn’t matter anymore, they were going to die anyway.

“And Queenie is your sister I take it?”

“Yes,” Goldstein said. This time she looked up at Cassiopeia when she answered, and there was fire in her gaze, and Cassiopeia quickly hurried back to presume her role as escort.

The boy she reaped, Karter Moon, was twelve years old and started crying for his mother as soon as his name was called. Percival tried to not let it get to him. He failed. With resignation he looked at the boy and only saw cannon fodder.

He watched the tributes being led towards the train where their loved ones were already waiting after the reaping was done. The boy’s mother smothered him in her embrace while her brood of other children wailed around them. The only person to see Goldstein off was her sister. They clung to each other like monkeys, and for a moment Percival was worried that they wouldn’t be able to separate the two. But then Goldstein pushed her sister away. She held her shoulders and told her something to which the blonde nodded dutifully. Then Goldstein brushed her sister’s tears away, gave her one last kiss on the forehead and entered the train. Prying the boy away from his mothers was the hard task, though, as he should have known. Slowly but surely all the wailing went on Percival’s nerves.

The train departed soon after and Percival joined the tributes in the compartment, the Morphlings having stayed in the District as usual. The boy was still sniffing in misery but at least he wasn’t crying openly anymore. Goldstein looked rather composed and determined, though her gaze softened whenever she looked at the other tribute. That wouldn’t do. She couldn’t show mercy or pity towards other tributes if she wanted to win, even if they were kids.

For a moment Percival halted in his steps when he realized that he planned on making Tina win, when he realized that he had _expectations_ , but he quickly brushed those thoughts away.

“So you’re the unlucky ones,” Percival said as he sat in front of them. He wanted a drink, but he would refrain from pouring himself one until the kids left for their rooms. Moon shrunk away at the sight of him, seemingly pleading for his seat to swallow him up. Percival had that kind of effect on people, especially children.

Goldstein though looked almost defiant, her eyes never leaving his as he swept his gaze over her. The girl had guts; he had to give it to her. But guts wouldn’t save you if you couldn’t back them up with something. Sadly people from Six didn’t have much experience with anything that could qualify as a weapon, so her chances were rather bleak on that front. “I am-“

“Percival Graves, our mentor,” Goldstein interrupted him. He narrowed his eyes at her, but she continued unimpressed. “What, how and when are you going to teach us?”

He raised his eyebrow. “What exactly do you think I’ll be teaching you?” he probed, curious about her answer.

She shrugged her shoulders. “Survival techniques primarily I guess. Maybe how to get ourselves a weapon, how to set traps, how to find water, things like that.”

“Most of those things you will learn at the training center,” Percival replied.

Goldstein raised her eyebrows. “Then what do we need _you_ for?”

Yes, for what indeed. He has asked himself the same question over the years. Because no matter how much time and effort he invested in his tributes, they never came out of the arena alive.

“I can give you valuable inside information,” Percival eventually answered. “I survived the games, and I have analyzed them every single year since. I know how certain Districts train their tributes and how they fight, like the careers. I can teach you things about strategy and stealth they don’t teach you at the training center. I gather you sponsors and am your connection to the world outside the arena should things get tight. For short: I can be the only thing standing between you and certain death.”

The boy shrunk a little further into himself after his speech, but Goldstein looked positively fired up. “Like I said: What, how and when are you going to teach us?”

Percival smirked. He could work with that.

* * *

 

Sometimes Percival had to remind himself that he wasn’t a monster. Sometimes he had to remind himself that it wasn’t him who sent innocent children to their deaths but the Capitol, and the he was only trying to at least bring one of them home alive.

It was a hard decision, but sometimes he had to make those, too. Sometimes he had to chose which one of his tributes had the better chances of survival and act accordingly.

In this case he threw in his lot with Tina “Nobody calls me Porpentina” Goldstein. She was a bright girl, and the oldest of the tributes this year, older than any tribute in the last four years, really. That, but more so her act of volunteering for her sister, gave her quite the attention from the Medias in the Capitol.

Thankfully she managed to stay composed and more or less nonplussed when they left the train, but at night, when Percival walked past her room, he could hear her crying herself to sleep. He didn’t doubt that she was tough as nails, but there was also a vulnerability to her that probably wouldn’t help her finding sponsors. But at the same time, if he erased that vulnerability, it erased something of her character, and that wasn’t good either. She needed personality for the people to like her and to throw their lot in with her.

The feed of her reaping helped in that regard. The way she volunteered for her sister, her determined expression during Moon’s reaping, it all helped to establish her character of a protective and willful young woman. The presentation of the tributes on the chariots was a ridiculous affair like always (the chrome colored suits made the children look ridiculous, and Percival didn’t know how _anybody_ could think they were a good idea), and nobody would remember it anyway except something interesting happened (which never happened) or they started to cry (which they thankfully didn’t).

The only thing he had to do now was to prepare her for Flickerman and to make sure she delivered in the first few hours, no, _minutes_ really, of the games. He needed her to show people that she meant business and that she could win this.

The problem was that she didn’t know an ounce about weapons, though.

“Now, watch my hands,” Percival instructed as he showed her basic knife movements with a pointy cheese knife he has taken with him after dinner. Tina observed him diligently, her eyes following every one of his movements and her feet already moved into position.

It was the evening of their first day at the training center, and Percival has instructed her to go to the weapon cabinet and test out which one of them felt natural to her or which she thought were best suited for her. The task was made difficult partially because he couldn’t be there to her judge himself, and Tina had no idea what to look for. He had to trust her when she told him that the knives felt good in her hand.

Thankfully Percival had a good relationship with the Peacekeepers in his District. They were a bunch of sadistic bastards, but they were the only ones who had access to various kinds of weapons and knew how to use them. Percival always liked to keep in touch with his training, and by buttering them up he leaned valuable skills and inside information. It was one of his ways to pass the time now that he didn’t have to work anymore after his victory.

Moon was already in bed. Both he and Tina thought it was better if the boy didn’t know anything about the extra training sessions Percival gave her. The girl already felt guilty enough that he has chosen her over him.

Holding the cheese knife out to her he said, “Now you.”

Nodding she took the knife, and he adjusted her grip slightly. Then she started mimicking him. Her movements were slow, jerky and a little sloppy, but mostly correct. The knife lay good in her hand, and her stance was fine, too.

 “Repeat the motions,” Percival told her as he circled her. “Try not to look at your hands. If you can’t move them while having an eye on your opponent then this whole thing is pointless.”

Tina nodded and instead opted to stare out of the windows. Her movements slowed slightly but quickened again with every passing sequence.

“Good. Now move around a little. Imagine you are pushing your enemy away or your enemy is pushing you, imagine circling around them.” Again she did as she was told.

And so Percival taught Tina Goldstein how to use a knife. Night after night he showed her moves, sparred with her, and gave her some helpful tips and tricks. Sometimes he would interrupt the knife lessons for some physical combat. He showed her how to get out of a chokehold or where to hit her enemies where it was most painful if she lost her weapon, together with a couple of moves that could incapacitate untrained enemies.

She may not have the most talented, but she made up for it with determination and a fast pace of learning. In the end she was passable. The last real obstacle was the interview now.

“Remember what we talked about. Mention your sister and how much you love her. Tell them how you are going to win for her. If you have to you can mention how I trained you privately after hours. Everything you say about that can get you an advantage,” he instructed as he pulled her aside one last time. Tina nodded determined, but he could see her fists clenching and unclenching in nervousness. He grasped her shoulders. “It’s going to be fine. Deep breathes.” She did as he told her, her eyes focused on his face like a lifeline. Unconsciously he mimicked her breathing.

After a minute she nodded again. “I’m fine,” she said and gave a wobbly smile he couldn’t help but return.

He squeezed her shoulder. “You’re going to do great.”

With one last shared smile Tina took her place in the line for the interviews while Percival made his way into the audience.

The interviews of the careers were the same as always. A lot of bragging was involved with a lot of confidence and self-adulation. The ones after them were less interesting because the tributes were less interesting and also less of a threat, but then it was Tina’s turn, and Percival straightened slightly in his seat.

The smile she gave the audience was small but sure while looking a little shy. The Capitol liked their female tributes _female_ , and while acting confident was a must the girls shouldn’t come on too masculine in their behavior. By playing the shy girl from District 6 she could play it safe. Her dark blue dress showed a lot of her legs, and although Percival knew that she felt uncomfortable she moved across the stage with sure steps.

Cesar kissed her hand as he guided her to the chair and she blushed slightly. “My my my, someone’s nervous,” Cesar joked.

Tina chuckled. “I haven’t spoken in front of so many people before,” she admitted and bashfully averted her eyes as the audience chuckled as well. So far so good.

“Oh, but you have!” Cesar protested. On the screen behind him an image of Tina at the reaping appeared, her face hard, almost desperate, as she volunteered for her sister. “Though I bet the heat of the moment helped you speaking up back then.”

“It _was_ easy to speak up,” Tina said, the smile vanishing from her face and being replaced by determination. “I would do everything for my little sister. I didn’t even have to think before volunteering.”

The entire audience gushed over that, and Percival hid a smirk behind a hand.

“I can see that. You obviously love your sister very much,” Cesar said and clasped her hand. “We all saw it, and we wish you the best of luck so you can return to her. She is surely waiting for your return.” The audience clapped enthusiastically. “Now tell me Porpentina, how do you plan on winning?”

This was the moment Percival has been waiting for. Before the interview Tina has uttered doubt about saying that he gave her private lessons. Moon, who was having his interview right after her, would be totally thrown off kilter by the sudden knowledge, but Percival as already made his decision which of his tributes to support when they were still on the train. There was no use going back now. Now it was up to her.

Tina hesitated for a moment, but then she straightened her shoulders and said, “Percival is a great teacher. He taught me a lot of things during the last couple of weeks. I couldn’t be any better prepared than I am now due to his help.”

Smooth. She admitted that he had trained her, but in no way has she indicated that she has gotten special treatment.

“Oh yes,” Cesar exclaimed. “Percival Graves! One of our greatest victors! It’s a pity that during the last couple of years there hasn’t been a tribute over the year of fourteen from District Six. It is hard to work with tributes this young. But now with you District Six has the oldest tribute in the entire competition. Tell me how it feels to be older than every single one of your fellow tributes.”

And so the interview continued. By mentioning that he has personally trained and mentored her she has piqued a lot of interest in the audience and hopefully also in the sponsors. He may not have brought home a single victor since he started mentoring, but his win in the arena was still well remembered and his name opened several doors should he choose to use it. Never before has he coached one of his tributes to throw his name into the room, though, but never before has he thought he could actually bring one of them home, either.

Not before Tina.

* * *

 

He has had to refrain himself from biting his nails when the tributes were brought into the arena (a Canyon-like terrain with many wild rivers and steep valleys were the kids could easily break their necks if they weren’t careful). He hoped Tia heeded his warning about the bloodbath at the beginning.

When the countdown reached zero she jumped off her platform and ran straight past the cornucopia, grabbing not only one but _two_ backpacks on the way. Karter Moon wasn’t as fortunate. The boy remained on his platform, scared to death, crying and pissing himself. He still stood there until the boy from Two slit his throat. For a moment it looked like Tina would turn around to help him, but then she must have realized that it was too late and ran on.

After running for a while Tina stopped at a calmer sidearm of one of the rivers to inspect her packs. Mostly they were full of useless knickknacks, and she threw many of them into the stream, but the things she could still have use for she packed back up. She still didn’t have a weapon, but at least now she had two flasks she could fill with water.

The weapon came in the form of a boy from Four. The boy has survived the bloodbath, but he got seriously wounded and was already dead when Tina found him. She closed his eyes when she took his gear, including his two knives.

Then Tina took everyone by surprise, even Percival.

It took almost another day for her to encounter her first real enemy. Percival knew that Tina took to the moves he showed her, but he never thought that she would be able to apply them like that in combat.

Her first kill was the girl from eleven who was only a year younger than she was. The girl hasn’t been particularly skilled, but she has been fast. Tina was faster. Her movements were a little jerky and hesitant at the beginning, but that went away the more the fight progressed and the more she realized that this wasn’t training but a fight to the death.

Her first kill shook her up, Percival could tell - _everybody_ could tell - and for a moment he thought it would break her. But then her expression steeled and she pushed herself back into the fray.

She was sneaky and stealthy, and tributes were engaged in battle with her before they even knew what hit them, sometimes even literally. Once she let a slew of rocks rain down on the careers, killing two and crippling the others. She didn’t go out of that fight unharmed though – the careers were far too skilled in combat for that – but she still came out victorious. She treated her wounds with the appropriated plants and herbs, obviously having paid attention during her time in the training center.

When she took care of a wound on her ribcage Percival could see the faces of the people around him. Especially the men looked at her like they she was a piece of meat, their gazes hungry and predatory. He could see that they were already going through their accounts in their heads to find out how many times they could afford to fuck her. Alone the thought made Percival sick to his stomach.

After the fight with the careers he managed to gain many sponsors. She quickly accelerated to the status of favorite, and he managed to send her some food and some antiseptics for her wounds.

In the end it was a tight run between Tina and a mountain of a boy from Seven, but in the end she was the one coming out on top, having been quicker, smarter and more agile than her opponent. She got out of that fight with a broken arm, four broken ribs and a punctured lung, together with three knocked out teeth and various bruises and contusions. It wasn’t a pretty sight when they got her out of that arena.

It was still a better sight than having to carry her home in a coffin.

He sat with her in the medical wing as often as he could, but various interviews and meetings ate at his time. He was terribly annoyed at the Capitol for keeping him away from his tribute (no, his _victor_ ), but it couldn’t be helped, and considering the occasion of why he had to give interviews it lessened his annoyance (but only a little).

Percival was napping in the chair beside her bed when she first woke up two days after her victory. Her soft “Percival” was what woke him up. Startling in his seat he quickly sat up and grabbed her hand.

“Hey there,” he said softly and even gave her a slight smile.

“Did I win?” Tina asked. The swelling in her face from various fights and beatings was already starting to vanish, but she must be pretty out of it by the morphling to ask such obvious questions.

Percival chuckled. “What do you think?”

She licked her lips. “I think that I don’t want to go back.”

“Believe me love, you don’t have to. You never have to go back,” he comforted her. He reached out and caressed her hair. Tina closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.  For a moment he let her be until he was sure that she was asleep again.

He observed her while she slept, his hand occasionally going to her wrist to check her pulse even with the monitors steadily beeping in the background. The morphling was helping her sleep, but he feared that she would wake up from a nightmare soon.

His fears came true a couple of hours later. He has fallen asleep again, this time with his head on her arm, but this time it was her terrified screaming that woke him up.

Without even being completely aware of his surroundings Percival jumped out of his chair and leaned over her, gently shaking her shoulders. “Tina! Tina wake up! It’s just a dream! You’re safe!” Her eyes shot open, and her good arm flashed forward to hit him, but he caught her wrist and pinned it down beside her head. He tried to catch her gaze. “It’s alright, Tina. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She stilled beneath him, her brown doe eyes large and clear and sentient for the first time since they brought her back. “I’m not in the arena?” she asked, her voice raspy and shaken.

Percival shook his head. “No love, you’re not. You’re safe, I promise.”

At his words her entire body relaxed, and from one moment to the other Tina started to cry. It wasn’t the desperate weeping he was used to, but one of shocked relief.

Muttering soothing nothings under his breath Percival sat down on the bed and pulled her into his arms. Tina came willingly enough, her fingers clawing at his shirt and her face buried against his shoulder. He rocked them slightly from side to side while he let her cry.

“It’s over love, it’s over.”

But nothing was over. The real horror would only just begin.


End file.
